


And Cover Me With The Night

by etoilecourageuse



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Cemetery, Dark, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Post-War, References to Illness, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8351644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilecourageuse/pseuds/etoilecourageuse
Summary: She still missed her, missed her more than anything, even after all those years, even after so much had happened, could still hear her voice in her head, speaking to her, speaking as if she still were here, here with her, as if she’d never left her.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DCBrierton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DCBrierton/gifts).



> Dear DCBrierton, I really, really hope that you like this! It's been my very first time writing Miss Fisher, and the whole thing turned out a LOT darker than I had at first intended (I've always pictured Mac and Phryne to be connected through such a special, tragic bond, and as soon as I started writing the fic just went its very own way), but I'm still quite proud of it.

It had already become dark as she reached the property, her steps slow and heavy, having lost their usual grace. She had no memory of when she’d left her own home, had no memory of how long she’d been out, wandering through the streets with no aim, until her steps had lead her to this place at last. She reached out her hands for the gate but her movements soon froze, causing her to take a deep breath, to turn around and to nearly escape again, to nearly run away as though… 

The small, simple grave was located in the far back of the cemetery, hidden beneath the shadows of two large weeping willows. Years had passed since she’d last come close to this place, years full of denial and grief, years so full of anger, not only against herself. But now… now seemed not to realise what she was doing, now she didn’t even seem to notice where her steps took her. 

She still missed her, missed her more than anything, even after all those years, even after so much had happened, could still hear her voice in her head, speaking to her, speaking as if she still were here, here with her, as if she’d never left her.

It would still break her heart to think about her, to think how early she’d left this world, and how young she’d been… How young they’d both been as… 

It’d been her fault, it’d all been her fault! Mac had never been a fighter, had only longed to protect the hospital, to help wherever help could be given, even if it meant to give her own life, or to neglect her own health over caring for her patients. But what about her? What had she done, over all these years, what she done? To abandon her in such a way, to deny her true emotions, and to leave, to leave her behind without a word and merely letters… What had she done?

She would not even finish her own thought. Just shook her head, biting her lip and forcing herself to focus, not to allow her mind to drift once in the way it had. All she’d done was fight, she had fought for herself and only herself, had fought for nothing, unable to notice that her friend, her best friend, the woman she had loved so beyond belief and never realise, would slip away from her more and more. 

How? How could she possibly… How could Phryne Fisher possibly pride herself with her sense of perception now? How could she possibly pride herself with what… She had not noticed. Had not noticed Mac’s descent into darkness, she had not… She could have saved her. 

It had been her fault. Mac’s death had only been her fault… She had not protected her, had failed to protect her in the so foolish assumption that she was capable of protecting herself, blind to her fragility inside, blind to her true state of mind and body, blind to her suffering. Why hadn’t it been her? Why hadn’t she fallen in the war, attacked at night, why had it been her, why had it been Mac? She would never forgive herself that she’d let her go, would never forgive herself that she’d not seen her grief, that she’d not noticed anything, anything at all… She would never forgive herself that she had lost her… 

“Forgive me, Mac,” she whispered barely audible as she placed a single red rose upon the ground, carefully reaching out her hand to touch the cold marble her gravestone was made of, the cold, black marble to show where the body of Elizabeth MacMillan had been laid to rest, forever, released from her agony after years of being stricken by illness. 

She had not been there for her… Phryne had never been there for her, not in the way Mac had always been by her own side, had never seen never… How she had loved her. She realised that now, realised that she loved her so beyond words, that perhaps Mac had been the only person she had ever truly loved… She loved her… She loved her so… But it was too late. It all was too late now. 

Even now, now that the war had ended long ago, now that nearly a decade had passed, all those pictures would still haunt her in her sleep, even now nightmares would still seem to drive her into sheer madness, not allowing her to come to rest. Even now, the guilt… 

Phryne gave a deep, quiet sigh, closing her eyes for a moment. How much she’d loved her… She knew it now, knew now how much she’d loved her Mac, perhaps more than she’d ever loved herself. Had she ever truly loved herself, after all? Still, she’d been too blind to see how much she’d suffered during the war, had been too foolish to realise that through her own fault she was to lose her only true treasure. Her last remaining treasure, after Janey had gone missing. 

The path she had picked had not been the right one, had never been right and yet she’d followed it, unable, unwilling to see that she was to lead everything she had ever valued into pure destruction. 

She had slipped away from herself and more after receiving the message of Mac's passing, a letter when in truth she should have been with her, had found herself scarcely speaking, scarcely leaving her home and even scarcely looking at her own reflection. Phryne had no memory of when she had last felt free, truly, of when she had last felt truly like herself. 

Again she closed her eyes, again she sighed, a quiet, desperate sigh, for a moment longing for her own time to come, for a moment picturing how it would be if she were to see them again, to see Jane, to see Mac.. .

But no. She would not allow herself to spend further thoughts on this, wouldn’t give in, not now… Hadn’t she once promised Mac to always remain strong, vowing the same to her sister so many years before? Hadn’t she promised them both to never give in and to always go on, no matter about what was to happen to her, no matter about…? 

She would not disappoint them, not again, would remain strong, strong for Mac, strong for Janey, even if inside she were dead, too. Even if her heart had long broken within her. 

“I will never hurt you again, Mac,” she whispered, barely audible, as if she were here, here with her, as if she could hear her… “I promise. I’ll never hurt you again.”

How much she had hurt her… How much she hurt her in the past by pushing her away unknowingly, by… The promise was too late, she knew, too late to be spoken out at last… And yet she would. Yet she would not hesitate to speak the words…  
Phryne knew that, one day, she would see her again, knew that, one day, she and Mac would be reunited, but, until then, she would her promise, would keep both her promises under any circumstances. Until then, she would remain strong.


End file.
